Looking through old family photos always makes me smile.
My late father loved photography. He owned many types of cameras, but these photos remind me that sometimes it’s the photographer and not the equipmen, that makes the picture.
As you can see… composition wasn’t exactly his strong suit. 
The back of my sister’s and mother’s head’s ? 
People casually walking right in front of the subject?
Family looking tiny while the background gets all the attention?
And then there was his favourite habit… choosing the busiest street corner for a family photo. He would be insistent and we’d be standing there, awkwardly smiling, urging him to hurry as he took his time “composing” his shot while pedestrians tried to squeeze past us or glared at us.
To be honest, when I was younger, the moment I saw him reaching for his camera, I would groan internally and try to disappear.
But today, I see these photos through a completely different lens. He wasn’t trying to create perfect photographs. He was trying to preserve moments.
Moments when his family was together.
Moments when he could bring us on holidays.
Moments filled with laughter, adventure, and the simple joy of being together.
The background didn’t matter.
The people walking past didn’t matter.
Even the blurry framing didn’t matter.
Because, as a parent myself now, I believe, in his heart, his family was always in focus.
Today, these imperfect photos have become priceless reminders of the person my father was.
Funny how time changes not just what we see… but how we see it. 
